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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/25515973">Only You</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/whilewilde/pseuds/whilewilde'>whilewilde</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Ashes to Ashes (UK TV)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Alternate Ending, Canon Rewrite, F/M, Fluff, Happy Ending, Nobody Dies, Pining, alex is really alive woooo, back from the dead</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-07-25</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-07-25</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-05 06:22:16</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>General Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>1,710</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/25515973</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/whilewilde/pseuds/whilewilde</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>5 months have passed since Alex Drake died. Gene Hunt has started to see her wherever he looks.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Alex Drake/Gene Hunt</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>6</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>21</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>Only You</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p class="p2">
  <span class="s2">It had been the right thing to do, he was sure of it, although these days it didn’t feel like it. Sure, Alex had offered to stay behind, but what would that make him? The good old Gene Hunt - Gene Genie - turned selfish bastard number one, looking out for himself first and foremost. No, it wasn’t his style.</span>
</p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s2">Sometimes caught a glimpse of her in passing, and his heart would skip a beat or two, before momentarily being crushed as reality would set in. Sometimes, just sometimes, he would allow himself to think of a world where Alex Drake was still in it. Usually those fantasies ended with an empty bottle of whisky and broken glass in his office, a sad reminder of the man Gene Hunt really was.</span>
</p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s2">It had got so bad as of late that he had begun to talk into a tape recorder, always recording over whatever he had said the previous night. Gene would sit at that desk, undo his tie, kick his feet onto the table and would just ramble, as if he was talking to her. As if it was the first time they had properly met, as Alex Drake and Gene Hunt.</span>
</p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s2">“See Bols, you’ve bloody well changed me and all. I was never a soft bastard and now I let the team get away with whatever bollocks they want. ‘Orrible.” Gene sighed, resting the top of his chin on the lid of the whisky bottle, gripping it tightly with his hands like a rifle.</span>
</p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s2">Then, he would move onto updates, as if it were as simple as reading the newspaper aloud to a partner at breakfast.</span>
</p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s2">“Thatcher got in again, I’m sure you’d be a right piece of work on election night an’ all. Load of feminist bollocks, if you ask me.”</span>
</p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s2">Nobody did anymore, and that was the problem. He barely stayed sober enough to recall 3/4’s of the day, and this team weren’t like the last. They didn’t see his kind heart beneath all that rough and the anger. There would never be another Shaz, Charlie or Ray. There definitely wouldn’t be another Alex Drake.</span>
</p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s2">Alex seemed to touch his very being, like she saw past the bravado. When they had first really noticed each other- really noticed- it was like it all made sense. In the way that when you first meet someone you feel your souls join and it’s like you’re meant to be there, right at that moment. Like every single other second on this Earth was meant to lead to this.</span>
</p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s2">“You know, whenever something ‘appens on the news, I’m just waiting for you to say ‘yeah I knew that was meant to happen’ or ‘that’s not supposed to happen until 1986.’S’pose I’m lost now, eh?” Gene mumbled, fumbling lazily for the stop button and leaning back into his chair and closing his eyes.</span>
</p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s2">It was a cold night in December, he was sure of it, and they were in the run up to Christmas. Chris had suggested drinks in Luigi’s, and no one in that gathering of alcoholics would say no, so there they were, not for the last time. Alex had been alone at the bar, pondering over some case as she always did.</span>
</p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s2">Gene sat in the corner with Ray, only half listening as his eyes fixed on Alex. Stupid, really, how he always noticed how beautiful she was but never said anything, as if it would ruin his whole tough guy façade.</span>
</p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s2">There she was, white dress, white fur coat, hair falling in her face as she furrowed her brow in concentration. Only You was playing over the speakers and Gene swore that at that moment, he could’ve bloody well killed Luigi. It described them best though; a bunch of coincidences leading them back to each other as if it was how things were supposed to be.</span>
</p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s2">Gene tapped Ray on the shoulder, holding up his empty pint as he got up and walked over to the bar, trying to keep his distance.</span>
</p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s2">“I didn’t consider you to be the kind of bird who didn’t touch a drink.” Gene started, eyes resting on the untouched cocktail in front of her.</span>
</p><p class="p3">“I didn’t consider you to be the kind of man who stared at ‘birds’ for 20 minutes.” Alex shot back, mimicking air quotes around ‘birds.’</p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s2">“Well you know me Bols, had to make sure you weren’t in trouble. Think too much and your ‘ead will come off.” Gene replied, gesturing to Luigi for a top up. </span>
</p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s2">“Well I think that’s rather unlikely, don’t you? A bit like the great Mr Gene Hunt showing any emotion.” Alex hit back frostily, gently jabbing his stomach with her elbow so he knew she was joking.</span>
</p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s2">“The Gene Genie doesn’t need emotions, Alex. I have enough charm alone. Besides, I hugged Shaz for gods sake!” Gene could feel Alex getting under his skin, like she always did. </span>
</p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s2">“I’ll assume you’re holding back on my display of affection for when I take down a major criminal too then?” Alex asked nonchalantly, fighting back a small smile.</span>
</p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s2">Gene didn’t reply, turning away in annoyance. </span>
</p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s2">“Luigi where the bloody ‘ell is my whiskey?!”</span>
</p><p class="p2">Gene awoke to the noise of chatter outside his office, realising that he must’ve dozed off. He clutched his back as he attempted to stand, hissing in pain. Well, he’s certainly not as flexible as he used to be.</p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s2">Nobody seemed to notice him as he pulled his jacket off it’s hook and exited the room, heading out of the office and down the corridor. Most mornings Gene paid little to no attention to the passing faces, coppers and scum alike. Today was no exception.</span>
</p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s2">Pushing through the front doors, he headed outside and down the steps until he was standing on tarmac. He had never been one of those soft blokes who needed ‘fresh air’, but recently those memories seemed to physically restrict him entirely of being able to breathe.</span>
</p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s2">His hand shakily produced a packet of cigs from his breast pocket, and he managed to light one on his fifth try, closing his eyes and inhaling. That was one thing Alex had secretly hated, he was sure of it, but she never said. Alex never had to really, it was just the way she looked at you.</span>
</p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s2">It’s not like the two did a lot of talking before... well, she died.</span>
</p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s2">“Why am I even thinking about her anyway? Sod it.” Gene mumbled, cringing slightly as he stamped out a barely smoked cigarette, and headed indoors.</span>
</p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s2">As he made his way towards his office, he was stopped by a detective. She was new to the team, showed a lot of promise, that sort of thing. Sharon? Rachel? No, that wasn’t it. Gene suddenly was hit by a wave of guilt.</span>
</p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s2">“Sir? There’s someone to see you. Highest importance, or summin’ like that.” She explained.</span>
</p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s2">“Ah, bastards! It’s probably one of those audit fellas come to ram their size nines up my backside.” Gene replied, agitated as he headed towards his office, noting the blind was drawn down. It was serious, then.</span>
</p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s2">Pausing with his hand on the door knob, he puffed out his chest and turned the bravado to 100. Mustering all his courage, Gene flung the door open and stepped in, immediately slamming it behind him.</span>
</p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s2">There she was. Alex Drake, fringe held out of her face by a clip, red lips, black blazer and red plastic earrings. Exactly like that first time they had seen each other, sat in his old chair, booted feet resting on top of the desk. Alex Drake wasn’t supposed to, but she fit in somehow, between the fag ends, the messy files and the several hidden bottles of whiskey.</span>
</p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s2">“This has got to be my nut, I need to go to a bloody clinic or something-“ Gene rambled, hoping that the vision would disappear like she was supposed to.</span>
</p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s2">“You dream about me? Well now, DI Hunt, I am flattered.” Alex joked, leaning back in his chair, hands behind her head as if she didn’t have a care in the world.</span>
</p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s2">“I thought you had died.” Gene began softly, before becoming enraged “I thought you were dead!”</span>
</p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s2">“I’m sorry Gene, I am. I really am.” Her voice was so soft and so gentle that Gene even believed it for a second.</span>
</p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s2">He leaned against the filing cabinet, barely holding himself together, a far cry away from the tough figure he had been 2 minutes ago. That was the problem with Alex Drake, though. She knew how to take him apart and leave him a different man.</span>
</p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s2">“You know, I started doing bloody recordings on that flipping recorder of yours. Just talking to you, like you’d actually hear it.” Gene trailed off at the end, his voice growing hoarse.</span>
</p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s2">“Well I’m here now aren’t I?!” Alex reasoned, getting up from his seat and crossing the room towards him.</span>
</p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s2">Usually Gene would’ve scoffed, made a joke which Alex would later bollock him for. Not now, though. He had given up pretending because the second he stepped into that office it was like he was back in Luigi’s in Christmas, or the time that they had danced in her flat, bodies pressed together and Alex’s head on his chest. It had made sense then.</span>
</p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s2">“I was doing just fine on my own-“ Gene trailed off as Alex approached him, and he suddenly found himself taking her in his embrace as if against his will.</span>
</p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s2">Alex rested her head on chest, wrapping his arms so tight around him that she thought her limbs might detach. The two stayed like that, in silence, as Gene closed his eyes and allowed himself to finally feel something. The thing he had been repressing for so long because there was really no one like his Alex.</span>
</p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s2">“You know something, Gene?” Alex questioned, not daring to move as he kissed the top of her head, before he rested his head on top of hers.</span>
</p><p class="p3">“Better not ruin the moment, Drake.” He was only half joking.</p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s2">“I think that deep down, you really are just a soft bastard.” Gene laughed in response, pulling Alex closer to him.</span>
</p><p class="p3">“I think you might be right, Bols.”</p>
  </div></div>
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